Jim Gordon had seen a lot in his decade of being Police Commissioner. He had witnessed the emergence of The Dark Knight, seen psychopaths and brightly dressed freaks seemingly every day of the week. He had watched Gotham City almost come to ruin more times than he could count. He thought he had seen it all. But this?

This was damn new.

He was working a night as usual, yelling at the national guard over the phone over the newest Killer Croc sightings, when one of his men came slinking in.

"Uh...Comish?"

"Busy," Jim grunted.

"Um...I-I think you should come see this. We got a call on some, uh, teens vandalizing buildings down town, and one of them was, uh..."

Jim put the phone down, storming out of his office and into the main part of the GCPD Prescient. Six teens in handcuffs, and one that looked awfully familiar. His kid.

"So, you're a delinquent now?!" He gruffed the words. He watched you shrink back, no doubt wanting to stay cool in front of your damn delinquent friends. To not be embarassed. Like hell. Jim stormed up to you, glaring down at you, you, in cuffs.